The Great Cheese Heist
by Exploded Pen
Summary: A story in which no one can function without cheese and everyone gets at least a mention! A slice of randomness, not to be taken seriously


**000 Disclaimer, I own nothing 000 Here is a little slice of randomness, a little 'cheesy' in parts, but definitely not to be taken seriously. **

**This is dedicated to The Libran Iniquity, supplier of cheese maps and 'lover' of cheese.000**

"No. You can't have any…don't look at me like that! I won't give in." Big brown eyes stared up at him beseechingly. Archer felt himself giving in, he felt himself walking over to the cheese tray. "You aren't allowed any more."

Another pitiful whine and Archer's heart turned to mush. "Alright then, one more piece…but that's it!"

He tossed Porthos a cube of cheese and sighed. Porthos devoured it in one go and let out a joyful bark.

Archer's door chime rang. "Come in!"

Hoshi entered and Porthos moved to give her an enthusiastic greeting. "I'm here to take Porthos for a walk, sir." She grinned.

"Actually, I thought I'd walk him today," said Archer matching her grin.

Hoshi's face fell, Archer swiftly changed his mind. "But I suppose I should catch up on some paperwork, thanks for the offer, Hoshi."

Hoshi beamed. "I'll bring him back soon."

Archer smiled and turned his back on them for a second. Quick as a wink, Hoshi's hand shot out and grabbed one of the cubes of cheese from the plate. She pocketed it and led Porthos from the room.

_Meanwhile in the corridor outside the Mess Hall…_

"I've been looking forward to this all day," said Travis rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Beside him Malcolm nodded in agreement, they opened the Mess Hall door and were greeted with a scene of chaos. Everyone was crowded round the serving hatches screaming in anger.

"Hey! Shut up!" Travis yelled waving his arms and trying to make himself heard.

Malcolm sighed and drew himself up to his full height. "QUIET!" Malcolm roared.

The crowd fell instantly silent freezing on the spot. Malcolm clasped his hands behind his back and strode forward.

"Would anyone care to explain what is going on here?" he asked his voice low and dangerous.

"There's no cheese, sir!" One desperate crewman cried out. "It's terrible! There isn't even any Brie! Not a smidgeon of mild cheddar. No Red Leicester, no nothing!"

The crowd stared at Malcolm anxiously, waiting for a response. There was none. Malcolm appeared to have frozen, his expression controlled but paling rapidly.

"What about Dairylea?" Travis demanded. "There has to be some left!"

"There's nothing, sirs!" a crewwoman wailed miserably.

Malcolm did his best goldfish impression before forcing out a whispered "Not even some Blue Stilton?"

Silence and some muted sniffling answered his question.

"I'll sort this," Malcolm promised. "But you must remain calm."

Whirring round on his heel and grabbing Travis as he went Malcolm stormed from the Mess Hall – approximately two seconds later pandemonium broke out in the Mess Hall again.

"Hey!" said Trip brightly wandering over towards them.

Malcolm put his hands on Trip's shoulders. Trip's expression fell, physical contact, it had to be bad news.

"There's no cheese, Trip!"

Trip seized hold of Travis and Malcolm. "This better not be a joke, if it is I ain't laughin'."

"It's not a joke!" Travis cried. "There's not even a substance formerly known as cheese!"

"We're going to confront Chef now," Malcolm added firmly detaching himself from Trip's grip.

Together, the trio stormed down to the Galley only to find the door locked.

"Chef! Open up!" Malcolm ordered insistently ringing the door chime.

"There's no cheese!" A voice yelled from within. "Don't blame me! It was taken from the stores last night. You want it, you find it!"

"Why didn't you report this to me earlier?" Malcolm demanded. "I'm Chief of Security!"

Silence.

Trip smacked his hands together. "Gentlemen, looks like we have a new mission."

"For the sanity and preservation of the crew's health." Malcolm nodded.

"May the cheese be with us!" Travis cried getting into the spirit of things

There was a long pause. Malcolm and Trip stared at him. Travis' grin fell. Trip turned to face Malcolm. "Any ideas?"

"I bet the Captain has it," Malcolm scowled. "He's always feeding it to that poodle of his…"

"Beagle," Trip corrected automatically.

"Whatever," Malcolm replied. "If it's small and barks, I don't care what it is as long as it doesn't get fed too much bloody cheese!"

"I think it's nice that Porthos gets cheese," said Travis, seeing the growing look of disbelief on Malcolm's face he quickly added. "As long as he doesn't eat it all, of course."

"I think the best place to start is in the storeroom," Malcolm began.

"But the cheese storeroom is right near T'Pol's and the Captain's quarters!" Travis exclaimed. "If the Captain finds out there's no cheese he'll kill us!"

"It's our only option," said Trip sighing.

The trio raced down the strangely deserted corridors and into the turbo-lift. Subtly they passed down the corridor towards the cheese storeroom. A note was pinned to the door.

Malcolm pulled it off and stared at it suspiciously. It appeared to be half of a ripped up map.

"Begin here," he read. His eyes travelled down a line that represented the corridor. It stopped where T'Pol's quarters would be. "Take 10 paces towards the Bonsai Trees in Sub-Commander T'Pol's quarters that she thinks nobody knows about."

He cleared his throat. "It appears gentlemen, that the scum who stole the cheese has left us this map with which to taunt us with."

"We got ourselves a good old fashioned treasure hunt!" Trip clapped his hands together in anticipation.

"If someone stole the cheese, why would they give us a map to go find it again?" Travis asked confused. "Surely they don't want to get caught."

Trip waved his hand dismissively. "Evil geniuses always want to show off about their diabolical schemes. It's why the good guy always wins."

Malcolm snorted. "The bad guy in films doesn't know squat. If that were me, say…trying to off James Bond, I wouldn't waste time thinking up some absurdly complicated way to kill him. I'd take out my gun and stick a bullet in his head. There'd be none of this 'explaining the plan because he's about to die' crap either. I'd kill him, and then tell him."

Trip blinked. "You've thought way too much about that."

Malcolm shrugged. "We should get started on the map. The faster we follow it, the faster we reach the cheese."

"Agreed."

Quietly they moved towards T'Pol's quarters. Malcolm turned to face Trip. "You go in."

"Me? Why me!" Trip hissed.

"In case she's in there! She likes you!"

Trip glared at Travis as if daring him to pass comment on this, but mercifully Travis remained silent.

Sighing, Trip pushed past Malcolm and opened the door to T'Pol's quarters.

"Take 10 paces to the Bonsai trees!" Malcolm whispered.

Trip carefully moved across the room, as if expecting T'Pol to leap out at him any second. IN his head he counted 10 paces and then stopped. The bonsai trees were dead ahead, cleverly concealed, but right where the map said they were. The next part of the map lay at the foot of the trees. Trip grabbed it and dashed out the room.

"You got it?" Malcolm asked re-sealing the door.

"Of course, I've got it," Trip whispered waving it in front of Malcolm's face. He started to read it. "And a further 20 paces and 1 turbo-lift ride to the empty quarters on E-deck where the hidden comic books are…" Trip trailed off. "How did they find out about my stash! No one knows about that!"

Malcolm took a deep breath and patted Trip's shoulder consolingly. "Everyone knows about your stash."

Trip scowled and stormed off towards the turbo-lift. They quickly made their way to the empty quarters, where Malcolm read the rest of the instructions.

"Get to the empty quarters…ah. Ignore the comic books and look for a pad under issue…" Trip whipped the map out from his hands.

Malcolm and Travis watched as Trip delicately picked his way through the comics before pausing and pulling out a pad with the rest of the map taped to the back.

"That's a security code," said Malcolm peering at the pad over Trip's shoulder.

"And that leads past the Captain's quarters," Travis gulped pointing to the map. "We're doomed!"

"We have no other choice," said Trip firmly. "We have to get the cheese back, everyone is depending on us!"

"For the crew," Malcolm agreed.

"For the cheese," Travis nodded.

"And more importantly, for us!" Trip exclaimed. "C'mon, let's go find that cheese!"

All three broke into a run and dived back into the turbo-lift. Racing past T'Pol's quarters Travis tripped.

"Argh!"

"Travis! Are you ok?" Trip asked.

"I can't go on! Leave me! Get the cheese!" Travis moaned.

"You're a good man, Travis!" Malcolm called over his shoulder as he prepared to start running again.

"Oy! You aren't supposed to say that!" Travis yelled indignantly. "What about the 'we never leave a man behind' motto!"

"I added a bit on at the end," Malcolm's retreating form replied distantly. "I never leave a man behind…unless there's cheese to be saved."

"Sorry, Travis," Trip agreed. "The needs of the cheese outweigh the needs of the few."

Travis scowled and pushed himself up before hobbling along after them.

They were all nearly home free when Archer's door opened. Travis skidded to a halt blinking.

"Travis?" Archer asked concerned. "Are you alright? Was there something you wanted?"

Travis floundered a moment. He glanced at Malcolm, who nodded gravely and then saluted him smartly.

"I was wondering…" Travis internally winced; he couldn't believe he was doing this. 'It's for the cheese' he told himself before pasting his most beaming grin on his face. "If you had any water polo games you could lend me, sir. I know it's a lot to ask but…"

"I think I can sort you out," Archer smiled and Travis reluctantly stepped into his quarters.

From there safe position down the corridor, Malcolm and Trip took a moment.

"Poor Travis, his sacrifice will not be forgotten," Malcolm sighed.

"He knew what he was doing," said Trip. "He was doing it for the cheese."

"Well, we can't let such a sacrifice go in vain, we have to get that cheese back!"

With that roaring cry they turned and dived towards the final barrier. The locked door.

"The code for the door is on the pad," said Malcolm nudging Trip.

Trip nodded and seconds later the door opened.

Malcolm's jaw dropped. "Good grief! It's you!"

"Rostov! How could you do this!" Trip demanded hotly. "You've betrayed everyone's trust!"

Rostov stepped out of the shadows. A twisted smile on his face. "Yes, it was I! I stole the cheese! And I had good reason to!"

Malcolm suddenly exploded with a volley of insults, the likes of which Trip had never heard. Rostov's face contorted in anger.

"I had too! You don't understand how difficult it is for someone like me!" He exclaimed angrily. "I'm lactose-intolerant! I can't eat cheese! I can't be part of your little cheese eating family! I'm ostracized! Completely on my own!"

"You were never on your own!" Trip shot back, trying to divert Rostov's attention away from Malcolm who was edging his way closer. "We always tried to include you!"

"Lies!" Rostov spat, he whipped out two cans from behind his back. "Stay back! I have squirty cheese and I'm not afraid to use it!"

Trip and Malcolm froze. Not squirty cheese! They had enough additives to send even the most hardened officer sky high!

"And now, I'm going to do what I should've done a long time ago! I've got all the cheese in the air lock, one push of this button and no one gets the cheese!"

"You…fiend!" Malcolm roared.

"Rostov, I'm ordering you to step away from that button!" Trip yelled.

"I think you should just let him do it," said a voice from behind them.

"Hoshi?" Malcolm asked in amazement. "What are you saying!"

"I think you should just let Rostov push the button," Hoshi said shrugging.

"Fine!" Rostov yelled. "I will!"

He turned and at that moment Trip released some sort of war cry before throwing himself at Rostov. But at the last second Rostov turned and fired. His aim was true. Trip hit the ground in a haze of cheesy, orange goo.

"Trip!" Malcolm cried racing to his friend.

"It's too late for me!" Trip gasped feeling some of the cheese slide down his throat. "Protect the cheese, Mal. Save it…for me…"

Rostov waved the cheese cans in Malcolm's face.

"I think you're running on empty, _my friend,_" Malcolm hissed rising to his feet

Rostov slammed his hand down on the button and started laughing hysterically. "Ha! The cheese is gone! You lose! Now no one has cheese!"

"Actually, that's not true," said Hoshi stepping forward. "You see, I found the cheese and moved it to safety. There was nothing left in the airlock."

"You're lying! You couldn't have moved it all yourself!" Rostov exclaimed, backing away as Malcolm advanced on him.

"That's true, I had help from Sub-Commander T'Pol," Hoshi acknowledged. "It was she who suggested that we actually go find the cheese instead of following that ridiculous cheese map you left."

"But how did you find it!" Rostov demanded. "My hiding place was perfect!"

"Just not perfect enough," Hoshi grinned.

"Give it up, Rostov, you've got nowhere to go," Malcolm hissed.

"NO!" Rostov dodged and tried to race round Malcolm, but Malcolm was too quick for him. One rugby tackle later and Rostov was pinned to the deck.

"If I were you," Malcolm said smirking. "I'd be a little 'cheesed' off."

Rostov groaned.

From his position on the floor, Trip laughed hysterically and bounded to his feet energetically.

_Later on that evening…_

The mess hall was a beehive of activity; tables were packed with cheese eating crewmen blissfully tucking into their cheese of choice.

Malcolm sat eating blue stilton on assorted crackers. His eyes were closed in sheer joy as he savoured each mouthful.

Across the table Travis sat munching on Dairylea triangles. "This was worth it. This was worth six hours of water polo any day."

"What I still don't get," said Malcolm turning to Hoshi. "Is how you and T'Pol managed to find the cheese?"

Hoshi grinned. "We knew that the cheese map would lead us somewhere utterly pointless, so we borrowed Porthos for a while. We let Porthos smell a piece of cheese and then just followed him as he smelt his way through the ship. Once we found the cheese, we moved it to the brig because it was the closest place to the airlock that we knew no one would think to look. After that, T'Pol enlisted the help of the galley staff to move the cheese back up to the storeroom while I followed you to here."

"Clever," Malcolm said nodding.

"I wouldn't have thought T'Pol would've wanted to help," said Travis slowly.

"T'Pol loves brie, we humans are the only ones who wanted the cheese back so badly," Hoshi returned her attention to the cheese on toast.

"There were casualties though," Malcolm sighed.

Hoshi nodded. "How is Trip doing?"

"Bouncing off the walls of decon with no sign of slowing," Malcolm told her. "Phlox says he should be fine, but he'll have one hell of a headache tomorrow morning."

"But it ended ok," Travis argued. "We got the cheese back." He grinned. "It was the case of the great cheese heist!"

"The great cheese heist!" Malcolm asked groaning. "That sounds a little…cheesy, Travis."

"What happened to Rostov?" Hoshi asked suddenly.

"Phlox reckons that it's our love of cheese that drove him to what he did, he wouldn't let me lock him up but instead suggested a rigorous course of 'Cheese Therapy'," said Malcolm he scowled. "But if I had my way…"

"I say let bygones be bygones," said Hoshi sinking her teeth into the cheese on toast. "We got the cheese back, none of it was lost, and it provided an afternoon's worth of entertainment."

Malcolm accidentally inhaled a piece of stilton. "Entertainment?" He choked.

Hoshi merely grinned.

**000 Ahh, go on, review, you know ya want to! 000**


End file.
